The 50 Best Dolly Parton Songs

First recorded for the 1971 Coat of Many Colors album, Parton revisited this inspirational tune as a duet for the soundtrack to the Netflix film, Dumplin’. Awash in gospel-choir accompaniment, this update, which pairs her with eclectic singer-songwriter Sia, beautifully echoes and amplifies the desires and assurances of the original.

Dolly was among the first country singer’s to harmonize with herself on record, a technique that distinguishes this 1971 song. Even Goldie Hawn did a good job with this song when she tried her hand at a version of it a year later, but the 1978 recording of this azure beauty, featuring Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris, sets the gold standard.

A group home for troubled children becomes the site of a conflagration planned and executed by the young residents as revenge for the hellish treatment they’ve suffered at the hands of matron Mrs. Bailey and her cruel staff. An early indication of Parton’s cinematic imagination and ambitions.

Sure, “9 to 5” and “But You Know I Love You” are indispensable hits, but this boisterous closing track from the 9 to 5 and Odd Jobs album is insanely catchy. For an exceptional LP dedicated to the concept of hard work, Dolly makes it all sound pretty darned easy.

A favorite subject of Parton’s, the majestic eagle is contrasted with the sparrow in this glorious ballad that served as the title cut of Dolly’s 1991 LP. Written for, but unused as the theme song of the ensemble film Steel Magnolias, it remains a soaring-yet-delicate feminist anthem.

“Every man I know thinks it’s dirty,” Parton says in Songteller of the lyrics to this misunderstood, under- appreciated title cut from her 15th solo LP. Rather, these are the stark, metaphorical reflections of a woman whose bruised self-esteem may exhibit some damage but whose well-worn heart is open to redemption.

Dolly’s bluegrass LPs from 1999 to 2002 (The Grass Is Blue, Little Sparrow, Halos & Horns) are all highly recommended, with career highlights spread evenly among them. This affecting folk ballad took on added poignancy post-9/11, and a brittle 2003 cover by Sinéad O’Connor made it all the more piercing.

Monument Records founder Fred Foster died in 2019 and didn’t see Dolly inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. But when he signed her in 1965 and released this enticing Northern soul- and girl group-influenced single written and produced by Ray Stevens, he could likely see a pop star in the making.

Its title was inspired by a pass through the tiny town of Dover, Tennessee, but this unsettling story of an unwed mother, spurned both by her disapproving family and her baby’s father, looms large in Dolly’s impressive catalog. Controversial for its time, the song still packs a devastating emotional wallop.

Dolly’s first bona fide dance hit – she would later score with Swedish duo Galantis on the chart-topping “Faith,” and with a cover of Cat Stevens’ “Peace Train,” among others – this combustible floor-filler accompanied Parton’s frequent trips to Studio 54, where she hung out with the likes of Andy Warhol and Calvin Klein.

Trio, the long-gestating first album from Parton, Harris, and Rondstadt (now in the Grammy Hall of Fame), is an absolute stunner from start to finish, with voices that harmonize with the ease and distinction of mountain-raised siblings. Parton’s paean to wanderlust is merely one rare, colorful beauty among its pure-country garden of earthly – and otherworldly – delights.

Producer-musician Ricky Skaggs helped rejuvenate Dolly’s career with the thrilling, inspired White Limozeen LP in 1989, from which this chart-topper is taken. Even though she didn’t write it, Parton infused the honky-tonk stomper with her trademark sass, rendering it as irresistible as the “big ideas and little behind” of song’s male subject.

A perennial favorite of her live shows, when she and her band sing a portion as if they’ve ingested heavy doses of helium, this was first recorded by Dolly with Chet Atkins, his galloping guitar accompanying her infectious laughter. A gospel-infused 1982 solo rendition was followed by 1994’s Trio recording.

One of Parton’s most ebullient and irresistible love songs, this title cut from her Grammy-nominated album would also be covered at the time by singer-actress Mary Kay Place, famed for her portrayal of perpetually cheerful country singer Loretta Haggers on the 1970s soap opera spoof, Mary Hartman.

This song was inspired by the real life experience of sitting alone in her room at a Howard Johnson’s Motor Inn, and trying to escape the temptation of the fried clams in the hotel restaurant, where she could hear her band enjoying themselves. She came up with a song about a woman who hears a party down the hall, decides to check it out, and comes back home with a new man.

On her 1967 debut, Dolly declared herself nobody’s fool with Curly Putman’s playful “Dumb Blonde.” Here, she’s more somber, coming clean about her own shortcomings while castigating sexist double standards, prefacing her confessions with a blistering admonition: “Let me tell you this so we’ll both know where we stand.” Ouch.

The front porch of the humble dwelling pictured on the cover of her now-50-year-old LP is where young Dolly did so much singing, picking, and “makin’ future plans.” This tranquil title cut captures the dreamier side of the always imaginative entertainer, for whom music, family and memories continue to resonate.

Adapting a traditional melody and marrying it to her lyrics that are at first fragile and broken but ultimately express strength and resolve, this title track from the second LP in her bluegrass trilogy is yet another of Parton’s finest feminist anthems. The harmony-laced a cappella intro is utterly chilling.

The most transformative of all Parton’s songs, the Oscar-nominated “9 to 5” accompanied the singer’s debut film role. In the 43 years since, versions of the Grammy-winning tune have anchored a Broadway musical and a 2022 documentary, Still Working 9 to 5. Somehow it continues to be a trenchant feminist statement on labor equity in 2023.

Two shining solo artists at peak brilliance, the pairing of Parton and Rogers resulted in a blinding supernova, and simply one of the most memorable pop-country duets of all time. Songwriters Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb crafted a timeless tune which launched a global phenomenon, cementing a lifelong Kenny/Dolly bond. While the wedding and karaoke concession on the song would be enough to keep the Gibb brothers stocked in fine-tooth combs, the Dolly/Kenny version, which topped the country and pop charts simultaneously, has sold in excess of two million copies in the U.S. alone.

Once she’d achieved solo success, Dolly eyed crossover stardom. On January 19, 1977, her 31st birthday, she started on that path by charming and disarming Tonight Show host Johnny Carson in her debut appearance. Later that year, this Barry Mann-Cynthia Weil gem, first recorded by B.J. Thomas, offered something a bit different for longtime fans, and a chance for those unfamiliar (or preoccupied with her looks) to be bowled over by her formidable musical talent. The Grammy-winning smash (Number Three pop, Number One country) led off her first million-selling album, launching the future global icon into the entertainment stratosphere.

Referring to it as “my song of deliverance,” Parton has recalled walking out of former singing partner Porter Wagoner’s office and driving home in a rainstorm. As the clouds parted, giving way to sunlight, the song was born, as was a new-era Dolly — luminous, independent, and on the verge of superstardom. By the time she reworked the lyrics for the soundtrack of her 1992 film, Straight Talk, Parton was one of the world’s most recognizable personalities, an empowered woman who had nothing to prove, yet still had plenty of dreams to bring to fruition.

Although oddly popular at weddings these days (even if “bittersweet memories” should be an obvious tip-off that it might be otherwise), decades ago this unfeigned expression of gratitude was simply a plea for independence directed at duet partner Porter Wagoner. The genuinely moving ballad finally persuaded Wagoner to grant Parton the freedom to pursue her solo career. In 1992, 10 years after Dolly had re-recorded it to accompany her starring role in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, Whitney Houston’s slow-building, jaw-dropping take on The Bodyguard soundtrack magnified its iconic status.

Between this song, a made-for-TV film, a childrens’ book and memorable covers of the original, a patchwork coat made by Parton’s mother inadvertently launched a multimedia enterprise. However, nothing tops witnessing Parton live on stage, performing this genuinely heart-stirring tale, recalling the experience of that crestfallen little girl as if the wounds from her classmates’ taunts are still fresh. Had it been the only song she’d ever written, the expression of overwhelming pride and crushing anguish (penned on the back of a dry-cleaning receipt for one of Porter Wagoner’s suits) would have secured her indelible legacy.

Parton’s live renditions of this oft-covered – 400-plus and counting – crowd-pleaser have usually been accompanied by recollections of the statuesque, redheaded bank teller who shamelessly flirted with her husband. Marking her first appearance on the Billboard Hot 100, “Jolene” provided a showcase for the singer-songwriter at her most vulnerable, which made it all the more relatable. “Whether it’s in another language, or [performed by] a garage band, everybody seems to love that song,” she notes. This May, Dolly and Carl Dean celebrate their 57th anniversary, and 50 years after its release, “Jolene” remains a dearly beloved classic.